by Rakes Reward
Why was he suddenly so polite? It made Marina want to scream. An hour ago he had been set to ravish her in this very carriage. ‘Thank you, Mr Stratton,’ she snapped, unable to hide her burgeoning temper. ‘I am quite able to manage without your…your services.’
Muffled laughter greeted her rather feeble sally. Marina felt she had achieved a small victory.
But it was short-lived. This time, he did not pull her on to his lap. He threw himself on to the seat beside her, tossed up her veil, and caught her gasp of alarm in a brutal, demanding kiss.
It was a kiss of possession. He was showing her that she was his, that he could have taken much more than her lips, that she would have been unable to resist. And to her eternal shame, it was so. She knew she ought to fight him, but her limbs were filled with a wondrous, glowing languor. His invasion of her mouth was no punishment, but a joy, tempting her towards delights that she could never have imagined. The warm scent of him seemed to surround her like a sun-filled arbour. She could have struggled free of his encircling arms, if her treacherous body had been willing to try. But it would not.
She slid her arms around his neck and yielded to an overwhelming desire to return his kiss.
It was Kit who broke it at last.
The carriage had stopped. Marina had no idea how long it had been stationary. Her whole being had been drowning in the magic of her first truly passionate embrace. Now she was gasping for breath and her heart was pounding. What had she done? How had she allowed it to happen?
She gazed up into Kit’s face, but his eyes were hooded and his expression blank. He was breathing quite easily. The kiss that had made such an indelible impression on her whole being seemed to have left him quite cold. Humiliation rose in her throat as if to choke her. Her face felt hot. She realised she must be quite scarlet.
She must get away from him!
Hastily pulling down her veil with one hand, she grabbed the handle of the carriage door.
Kit put a restraining hand on her arm. ‘The path is on the other side, Miss Beaumont,’ he said calmly. ‘I would not have you descend into the mud.’
Marina’s hands clenched into fists. Again, that incredible urge to scream like a demented fiend. She rose and pushed past him, not trusting herself to speak another word.
Unable to rise in the cramped interior, Kit bowed to her. ‘You will understand that I may not alight to help you down, Miss Beaumont,’ he said politely. ‘I trust you will forgive me for that.’
Marina flung open the door and stepped down into the blessed freedom of Hyde Park. She half turned back to him. He was almost invisible in the gloom. ‘For that, most certainly, Mr Stratton,’ she said in a low venomous voice. ‘But for nothing else.’ Reaching up, she slammed the door on him with all the force she could muster.
She would almost have sworn that she heard an appreciative laugh from inside the carriage as she started to hurry away.
It was impossible to deal with such a man. Impossible for her. She must have nothing more to do with him.
Head lowered, she hastened towards the gate. Thank heavens there was almost nobody about. Only a single gentleman on horseback, taking his morning exercise.
She reached the gate just as the gentleman trotted up behind her on a fine bay mare. He pulled his horse aside politely so that Marina would not be splashed. Automatically, she looked up at him to nod her thanks.
Oh, no! Surely not! Please let her be mistaken!
He stopped in the act of raising his crop to his hat, a very strange look flitting across his features. Then with a tiny shake of his head, he completed the salute and walked his mare through the gate.
Marina looked after his retreating figure. It had almost seemed as if he recognised her. But that was impossible. They had never even been introduced, and besides… She reached up to straighten her concealing veil.
Part of it had caught on the top of her bonnet. Much of her face must have been visible from the moment she alighted from Kit Stratton’s carriage. The rider of the bay mare had seen her step down, she remembered that clearly. He must have crossed her path deliberately just now, in order to get a closer look at a woman who was so obviously defying convention. By his expression, he had recognised her face, even if, please God, he did not yet know her name.
What would he do with the information he had acquired? Would he broadcast to the world that a very tall, grey-clad lady had emerged alone from a closed carriage in the early hours of the morning? He had only to describe her thus for her name to be forthcoming from many of Lady Luce’s acquaintances.
Marina shuddered. The sheet of ice had returned to her back.
She would have to abandon her resolution to avoid Kit Stratton. He alone might be able to save her from public disgrace, provided she could appeal to him very soon.
For the gentleman on the bay mare was Sir Hugo Stratton.
Chapter Ten
None of it made any sense, Marina thought, throwing aside her bonnet and gloves and sitting down at her little writing table. The whole episode had been like a series of riddles, each more indecipherable than the last. First he had attacked her in his carriage. Next, he had spurned her, on the far from convincing grounds that he did not deal with more than one woman at a time. Finally, he had attacked her in his carriage all over again. So much for his claim of being faithful to his newest mistress.
For some reason, he had been toying with her. Men could be just as fickle as women, surely? And Kit Stratton was definitely that. In his Chelsea house, he could barely bring himself to touch her. In his dark and musty carriage, he had—
That must be it. It had been so dark in the carriage that he would not have been able to make out her features. He had probably told himself that he was kissing someone else, his latest mistress, perhaps.
She felt used. Could it have been worse if he had actually bedded her? As it was, she had screwed her courage to the sticking-place, and then he had rejected her, in the most obnoxious manner. Most humiliating of all, he had kissed her so beguilingly that she had responded—eagerly—in spite of the insults he had been heaping upon her. She burned with shame at the thought of what she had done, how she had felt… Her conscience reminded her that she had sinned, yet she knew that, given another chance, she would willingly sin again…
There must be no more chances.
Marina turned her ring round her finger, trying to devise a new, more terrible curse to throw at him. She was not very good at curses. Her mama had made sure that she learned none of the bad language used by the common soldiers. And what good would it do, anyway? She still had to ask—nay, beg—Kit Stratton to persuade his brother not to betray her to the world.
She dare not see him. She must write to him. Again. As before, her future would hang on his reaction to her request.
She pulled a sheet of paper towards her and steeled herself to write the most difficult letter of her life.
With a mischievous glance at her husband, Emma Stratton put a hand on Kit’s shoulder to pull him down to her level so that she could plant a smacking kiss on his cheek. ‘How lovely to see you, Kit,’ she said, gazing flirtatiously at him through her long lashes.
Kit smiled indulgently at his beautiful sister-in-law. ‘If the tabbies could see you now, Emma…’ he warned, doing his best to inject a hint of menace into his words.
‘And what do you mean by that remark, pray?’ she replied, in mock outrage. The wicked sparkle in her eyes betrayed her.
From his stance by the window overlooking the busy street, Hugo wagged a finger at her. ‘You know very well, you minx. They will never stop seeking scandal between you and Kit.’
Emma threw her husband a speaking glance and sank into her spindle-legged chair in a single, elegant movement. ‘What, I? A respectable matron, the mother of three stout children? Fie on you, sir!’
Kit took her hand in his and raised it to his lips, grinning wickedly all the while. ‘But who is to say they are all yours, Hugo? After all, we are so very much a
like…’ He left the thought unfinished. He did not need to remind Emma, or her husband, that she been compromised all those years ago as a result of mistaking Kit for Hugo in a midnight garden.
‘You wretch, Kit,’ she cried, rapping him hard across the knuckles with her fan.
‘Seriously though, Kit,’ said Hugo, strolling across the Aubusson carpet to where his wife sat and resting his hand gently on her shoulder, ‘it would be wiser not to mention the likeness between us. You might just set them thinking. You know how easily rumours start.’
‘I’d like to see how they would account for it, Hugo, when I have been in Vienna almost since the day of your wedding. I may have something of a reputation with the ladies—’ Hugo raised an eyebrow, and Emma giggled ‘—but there are some things even I…’
Emma clapped her hands over her ears, but then she spoiled the moment by collapsing in gales of laughter. The two men were soon laughing, too.
Emma said, weakly, ‘This is vastly improper. You are quite as bad as each other, you know.’
‘Very true, my love, very true,’ said Hugo, nodding. ‘We shall now talk of subjects fit for my lady wife’s drawing room. Will you not be seated, Kit? Tell me, did you see the lady who was with the Dowager Lady Luce at the ball t’other evening?’
‘Why do you ask?’ said Kit carefully.
Hugo grinned. ‘Sparring for wind, brother? I ask, because I expect you to know every lady in London. You must have seen her. She is so much taller than all the other ladies that every eye must be drawn to her.’
‘As it happens, Hugo, I did not see her at the ball, but I do know who she is.’
‘Ah,’ said Hugo, nodding expectantly.
‘She is Lady Luce’s companion. Her name is Beaumont.’
‘Of course!’ Hugo slapped his thigh. ‘I should have guessed. The likeness was there all the time.’
Emma frowned across at him. ‘Hugo, you are talking in riddles. What likeness? Who is Miss Beaumont?’
‘I am not totally certain, Emma, but I think my friend, George Langley, was her uncle. You know he was killed at Ciudad Rodrigo, but I may not have said that his sister’s husband, Tom Beaumont, died there too.’
‘Oh, how dreadful!’ cried Emma. ‘A husband and a brother!’
Kit rose abruptly and strode across to the window.
Hugo nodded in sympathy. For a few moments he sat in silence, remembering.
Emma put a gentle hand on his arm. ‘What makes you think she is related to them, love?’ she asked softly.
‘There can be no doubt. Not for anyone who knew Tom Beaumont. She has a great look of him. Same height, same build, same features. But what on earth is she doing as companion to that old harpy? Surely—?’
‘I suspect her family is become very poor, Hugo,’ said Kit in a harsh voice, turning back into the room. ‘I take it the army did nothing for the widow?’
‘I am afraid I do not know,’ Hugo replied, flushing a little. ‘You will recall that, after the battle, I was…in some difficulty.’
Kit nodded quickly. The last thing he wanted was for his brother to be forced to recall the accusations of cowardice that had been heaped upon him by his malicious commanding officer. They had long since been proved false, but the memories would still be painful.
‘I had no chance to do anything for Mrs Beaumont at the time. I was not even permitted to write to her,’ Hugo added bitterly. ‘And when I eventually came home, it was years too late. I did not even know where to begin to look. Somewhere in the north, I fancy.’
Kit turned back to the window, his mind racing. He had so nearly done something thoroughly dishonourable to a lady who should have been under his family’s protection. No wonder Miss Beaumont had shown such courage under his assault. She came from heroic stock. He clenched his fists in frustration and swallowed a groan. Miss Beaumont needed help, not harassment. But it was unlikely that she would accept anything from him. After all, she had said— Yes, of course, she had said he was not worthy to be Hugo’s brother… The connection had been clear, almost from the start, if only he had thought to pursue it. And now…
Emma had been talking eagerly to her husband. ‘And I shall certainly take her up,’ she finished triumphantly. ‘Lady Luce shall have nothing to say in the matter.’
Hugo gave a crack of unwilling laughter. ‘That would be the first time, my love. Do you not agree, Kit?’
‘What? Your pardon, Hugo, I was not listening. You asked…?’
‘It is of no moment. Emma and I were just discussing Miss Beaumont. Emma is determined to help her, yet I…I must admit I have doubts.’
‘Oh?’ Emma bridled visibly. ‘Why?’
‘Believe me, my love, I shall ensure that she and her family are not left in penury, but there is no need for you to become involved. She is only a companion, after all.’
‘Hugo! What a wicked—!’ Emma broke off, looking shrewdly into her husband’s face. ‘No. You would never say anything so unkind. Or so top-lofty. You are trying to hide something from me.’ She clasped her hands in her lap, fixed her angelic blue gaze on his face and waited. A knowing little smile began playing round her mouth.
Kit waited, too. What on earth could Hugo know to Miss Beaumont’s detriment? Unless—
‘Emma, I am asking you not to take Miss Beaumont under your wing. At least, not immediately.’ Hugo raised his brows, waiting for her response. His expression was grave. Eventually, Emma nodded, somewhat unwillingly, Kit thought. ‘Believe me, I have good reason for my caution,’ Hugo continued, unbending a little in the light of his wife’s acquiescence. ‘Suffice it to say that I saw her earlier today, somewhere no lady should be.’
Kit just managed to conceal a start of surprise.
‘But she may have—’ began Emma, eager to defend a possible protégée.
‘Patience, my love, patience. Give me time to discover a little more about Miss Beaumont. I promise that if I find that she had good reason for her…actions, I shall positively insist that you help her.’
‘Very well,’ Emma said. ‘I shall have patience, since you ask it of me. But do be quick about your enquiries, love,’ she added with an impudent little grin, ‘for I am already longing to meet your mysterious Miss Beaumont.’
In spite of his concern, Kit almost laughed. Emma was truly outrageous. She could play the part of the obedient wife to perfection, but underneath…!
Hugo was laughing, too, and shaking his head at his beautiful, wilful wife. ‘So much for marriage vows, eh, Kit? Obedience, indeed!’
Rising quickly, Emma dropped a kiss on her husband’s forehead, before he could move from his seat. ‘Never fear, husband,’ she said gaily. ‘I shall not break my vows—or not today, at least—since I am promised to Lady Dunsmore and—’ she glanced at the gilt mantel clock and gave a little shriek ‘—heavens, I shall be most dreadfully late.’ She hurried to the door but Kit was before her, ready to open it for her. ‘Goodbye, Kit. I leave you to my lord and master. No doubt you are well used to his imperious ways.’ She left the room in a swirl of lemon muslin and jonquil ribbons. It seemed suddenly duller without her.
Hugo was still smiling when Kit came back to join him by the huge fireplace. ‘An extraordinary coincidence, is it not, Hugo, that this young woman should be the daughter of your old friend?’
‘Not quite that, Kit. Her uncle, Langley, was my friend. We served together for years. Her father was some years older and only recently transferred into the 95th, so I did not know him all that well. On reflection, though, I am not so surprised if the family is poor. Beaumont was always gambling and he very rarely won.’
‘Ah,’ said Kit. That could explain much about Miss Beaumont’s attempts to protect her mistress from the evil consequences of gambling. Yet another reason to condemn his own behaviour, too.
‘It sounds as if you know more about Miss Beaumont than you are prepared to say, Kit. I collect that I am right in thinking she is not a fit person for Emma to know?’
‘N
o, Hugo,’ said Kit immediately, ‘you are not right. Miss Beaumont is most definitely a lady. What makes you think otherwise?’
Hugo glanced suspiciously at his brother, but Kit was still determined to give nothing away. He had schooled his features into a bland expression and simply waited, as Emma had done, until the silence forced Hugo into speech.
‘Oh, very well, since you are so intent upon knowing. I saw her in the park, very early this morning. She was quite alone. She alighted from a carriage with its blinds drawn, apparently after having some kind of altercation with the person inside. I assumed her companion to be a man. And I can think of no acceptable reason for her being there. Certainly, when she saw me, she looked remarkably guilty.’
‘You spoke to her?’
‘No. We have not been introduced. I recognised her from the ball.’
‘Through her veil?’
Hugo leaned back in his seat and eyed his brother sceptically. After a moment, he said, ‘I shall not ask how you come to know that. But I am now more than ever sure that I should discover more about Miss Beaumont before I permit Emma to know her.’
Cursing himself for his stupidity, Kit flung himself out of his chair and strode across to the window, before his loose tongue could betray him even more. Was there anything he could say to retrieve the situation? If Hugo began to make enquiries about Miss Beaumont, rumours were bound to start to fly. And it would be Kit’s fault. He must say something to buy a little time, if nothing more.
He turned back from the window and said, ‘Hugo, I fully understand your desire to protect Emma’s reputation, but you have no need to be concerned about Miss Beaumont. She is a lady, and a virtuous one.’
Hugo still looked unconvinced.
Goaded, Kit continued, ‘I give you my word that I have not seduced her.’
‘But you have met her,’ Hugo said flatly. ‘Alone, I take it?’
Confound it! Hugo had always been able to read Kit as no other could. He would not be satisfied with less than the truth…or some part of it. ‘She sought me out to ask me to forgive Lady Luce’s debt,’ he said baldly.
